On Our Own
by EMTDreamer
Summary: What happens when the POstables find a letter from Oliver's past? Can they help the past come to the future? Characters belong to Martha Williamson. (sort of AU)
1. Damaged Goods

ON OUR OWN

PROLOGUE-DAMAGED GOODS

"Good morning!" Shane McInerney called cheerfully as her high heels clicked on the floor of the DLO. She placed her bag on a desk and gently folded her coat over the back of one of the rolling chairs.

"Hi Shane!" Rita Haywith said eagerly waving energetically. "It's so cold out there!"

Rita was dressed in a pale blue pencil skirt and a powder blue patterned sweater. In her ears were small owl dangle earrings and her long dark brown hair was pulled into a braid and hung over her left shoulder. She reached up and adjusted her dark rimmed cat eye glasses.

"Isn't it supposed to snow?" she continued.

Shane put her hands on her hips and tilted her head slightly. Today, she was dressed in a pair of silver pants and a white sweater with a gold belt wrapped around her waist. Her blond hair fell around her shoulders in soft waves.

"I think so yes," she said nodding. "Where is Oliver and Norman?"

"Oliver's running a bit late and Normal should be right back. They found a batch of dead letters upstairs so he ran up to get them," Rita said as she tucked a few loose strands of dark hair behind her ear.

Sure enough, Norman Dorman, their third colleague came through the white, red and blue striped doors pushing a large mail cart. It was filled to the brim. Norman was dressed in a pair of gray slacks, a multicolored shirt beneath a soft gray sweater vest. His short dark brown hair was neatly brushed off to the side. His brown eyes lit up when he spied Rita but quickly shrugged his shoulders in case anyone might've caught the look.

"Here's the dead letters," He said pushing it to the center of the office.

"Good morning everyone," a voice said from the door way. Oliver O'Toole stepped in walking briskly to his desk. He placed his briefcase down on his desk and his coat on the coat rack. He reached up and took off his gray fedora hat and hung it up on the rack. Today he was dressed in a dark blue suit and tie. He was tall, about six foot and slim, but not scrawny. His blue eyes swept over everyone and then landed on the massive pile of dead letters sitting in the bin. "Is that everything they found upstairs?"

"Yep," Rita said excitedly clapping her hands briefly.

Oliver nodded and reached over his desk to grab one of the many letter openers he had. He, Norman, Rita and Shane stood around the bin as he briefly closed his eyes and reached into it, plucking one letter from the top. It was a ritual he did every day with the mail to choose one 'lucky' letter for them to solve and deliver the letter to its rightful owner.

He flipped the letter over to the front where the return address and recipiants address would be along with the stamps.

"Okay," he said taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders back. "Letter appears to have been water damaged, but there is a name somewhat visible in the upper corner as well as the recipiants name. Norman?"

He handed the letter over to Norman, who gently took it and studied the handwriting.

"Handwriting appears to be female," he said gently examining the envelope. "In her late teens, maybe 18? I see a city though…Denver and a state…Colorado." He said looking up from the envelope.

"So it originated here?" Shane asked glancing from Norman to Oliver and then to Rita.

"Apparently so," Oliver said.

"Wait," Norman said holding up a finger. "I think I can make out the name of the recipient and the sender." He said raising the envelope to his face a bit more and squinted. After a few moments, he looked up. "The recipient looks like the name…" his voice trailed off as a bit of color drained from his face.

"Like what Norman?" Rita asked.

"Oliver," Norman responded. "And the sender's name looks like Imogen. I can't make out a last name or anything though."

Shane, Norman and Rita looked over at Oliver, who had been leaning against his desk with his ankles crossed and his hands gripping the edge of it on either side of his waist. He swallowed, causing his Adams apple to bob against the collar of his shirt. He looked like he'd seen a ghost or something. Concern swept across the three POstables' faces.

"Oliver?" Shane asked taking a tentative step forward. "Is everything alright?"

Oliver swallowed again.

"I knew an Imogen in high school," he finally answered, his voice sounding strained and watery. "She was my best friend and I was told she had died."

Gasps went around as Shane and Rita raised a hand to their mouths in sympathetic surprise.

"Do you think this is her letter then Oliver?" Rita asked gently.

Oliver shook is head.

"I don't know Rita," he said in a miserable tone. "I never knew the truth exactly. All I know is that we met freshman year. She loved history and reading. We met in the library. She was carrying several thick volumes back to her table when one of the jocks just went up to her and knocked them out of her hand. The group laughed and slapped each other high fives before leaving. Imogen had bent down to pick them up so I had gotten up to help her."

"Aw," Rita said in an adoring tone. "Such a gentleman." She said clasping her hands and swaying slightly from side to side with a dreamy look on her face.

Oliver's lip twitched as he continued.

"So I had seen the titles of the books and we just hit it off from there," he said clearing his throat. "We were inseparable for the first three years. Senior year is when I noticed something terribly wrong." He said closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "She was coming to school late; she wore long sleeved shirts even during the summer months. She became reclusive and withdrawn and stopped talking to me. I confronted her at one point. We got into an argument and that's when I noticed the bruises on her arms."

Horrified gasps went around as Shane felt tears forming in her eyes at the insinuation of what Oliver was telling. The others were silent as well. No one interrupted him.

"One day she came to school with a black eye," Oliver went on not looking up. "Then, one day, she didn't come at all. I got worried and went to her house after school. Her father answered the door, drunk as a squire and told me that she fell down the stairs and died…that it was nothing more than another so called 'accident'." Oliver air quoted the word accident. "I was so stunned and shocked. I wanted to help her so badly. So if that is her letter…." His voice trailed off as he finally looked up and stared at the letter in Norman's hands.

"You need to open it," Shane said in a gentle tone putting a hand on his arm as Norman came over and handed it to him. Shane could see Oliver's blue eyes misting over a bit before he adjusted his shoulders and sniffed.

With the utmost care, Oliver gently slipped the letter opener up the crevice. He took a deep breath and pulled the letter out. Some of the wording was water damaged and smudged, but he was able to make out most of what it said.

" _Dear Oliver,_

 _I am so sorry I have been distant with you lately. Please understand its not you, nor is it your fault."_ Oliver read aloud slowly trying to keep his voice steady but there was still a bit of a waver and wobble to it. _"I want to tell you what's going on so badly. But I can't. If I tell you, you'd want to help and be my hero and I can't let you get hurt too. All I can say is that Dad's been drinking a lot more and he does hit me on occasion. But it's my fault. I sometimes provoke him into getting angry."_ Oliver's voice broke after reading the sentence and he had to take a moment to compose himself to read on. Shane and Rita had tears in their eyes and Norman was completely silent with a distraught expression on his face as he stood near Rita.

" _I will be okay I promise. I never told you this Oliver, because I had a fear that you'd reject me or wouldn't want someone like me. But I love you. I've always loved you. I just never had the courage to tell you. You're so sophisticated and brilliant and I'm me. That's why I never had the chance to tell you. If you receive this letter, please, don't feel like you have to pity me. It's all good. If something should happen to me, please make sure that you take care of this necklace you gave me. Remember? It was so sweet on Valentine's day. I remember that day so well. It was the happiest day of my life. Be well Oliver, I miss you._

 _Imogen"_

Oliver reached into the envelope and pulled out a semi tarnished silver locket. Oliver gently slid his fingernail in the crack and opened it. Sure enough, it had the engraving inside that he had done.

"To my best friend, Imogen. Love Oliver," he read aloud quietly.

"Oh my God Oliver I'm so sorry," Shane whispered.

Oliver cleared his throat and gently slipped the locket into his pocket.

"The date on the envelope suggests it was mailed the day before she disappeared," he said feeling the other's sympathetic eyes on his back as he turned to place the letter opener back on his desk. "So she had to have known something was going to happen."

"Was her father normally a violent man?" Rita asked gently.

"From what I remember Rita yes," He said keeping his back to them. He shrugged off his suit jacket and placed on the back of his chair. He adjusted his suspenders. "But what did she mean by not wanting to get me involved for fear I'd get hurt?" he finally slowly turned around and he could see Shane on her laptop, typing frantically.

"Maybe she thought her father would try and do something to you if you interfered?" Norman suggested.

Oliver clenched his fist up and banged it on his desk momentarily startling the others, but no one said anything which he was grateful for. Oliver heard a few beeps coming from Shane's computer.

"Oliver," Shane said suddenly and he looked up at her. She had a strange look on her face but then a grin broke out. "There is no death record of anyone named Imogen."

"So does that mean she's alive?" Rita asked eagerly.

"It would certainly seem so," Shane said. "If you can remember her last name I can do a search in the database."

Oliver frowned deep in thought before realization dawned on him.

"Price. Imogen Price," he said at last.

Shane nodded and continued typing. After a while, Oliver watched Shane's face fall into despair.

"What is it, Miss McInerney?" Oliver asked quietly.

"Oh Oliver, I'm so sorry," Shane said turning the laptop around so he could read the title of the article she'd pulled up.

WOMEN'S SHELTER FLOODED. SEVERAL SURVIVED INCLUDING AN IMOGEN PRICE.

IMOGEN

I stood next to one of the large barrels, rubbing my hands together as the fire crackled inside. I had on a gray crocheted cap pulled down over my dark brown hair with two blue streaks in it. I also had on a pair of ripped jeans, worn down sneakers and a pair of fingerless gloves which didn't help one bit. I had on a sweater and an old peacoat, but the temperature was still brutal. My green eyes looked up at the small community of homeless people around me that took up residence here. Most were from the women's shelter that flooded a few years ago. The pipe had burst due to the freezing temperatures but so far, the government hasn't bothered to fix it and most of us ended up on the streets…starving and homeless. Each time I exhaled, my breath congealed in the air in front of me before evaporating. I had soot and dirt smudged on my cheek and jaw line. I basically now sleep in a cardboard box. Not the best shelter especially when it rained. Them things get soggy like you wouldn't believe.

"Yo Imogen!" a woman in her mid-fifties shouted waving at me as she approached me with a shopping cart. "I have something good for you today."

"Really?" I asked. "What is it?"

"Canned tuna and an apple," she said handing the items to me. "I found them."

"Thanks," I said eagerly feeling a shiver running down my spine from the cold. I sat down on the ground with my back pressed against the wall of some run-down mechanic garage and drew my legs up to my chest. I hungrily dug into the tuna with my fingers and began chowing down on the apple. We tend to look out for one another here. Being I lost my own family, everything I owned was gone. My dad was arrested for abuse as my mother had turned him in. I had to drop out of high school because she and I had to relocate to another state after I had fallen down the stairs by 'accident' as he so called claimed. I lost contact with my best friend Oliver whom I miss terribly. I don't even know what he does today or even where he is. That hurt the most. I had mailed a letter the day before dad pushed me down the stairs, but I don't even know if he got it. Or if he did, he clearly didn't feel the same way. It was a moot point.

I didn't tell Oliver because I knew Dad would want to go after him and hurt him too for wanting to protect me. Dad was nothing more than a monster. He's still in jail too. Mom went into a nursing home herself a few years ago. Dementia had set in badly. After mom went away, I was left on my own to fend for myself and ended up the streets. I'd done things I'm not proud of to get buy but I had to live and find food. I'd found the shelter which was a blessing at the time, warmth and a roof over my head plus free meals. But then the pipe burst, and that was taken away from me as well.

I tossed the apple core into the trash and sighed.

Suddenly, a pair of headlights rolled over me, illuminating the alleyway. I winced and raised a hand to shield my eyes. It was a light blue Jaguar sedan, an older model though. I saw all four doors open and a tall, slender man climbed out from the driver's side.

"Dude, shut those lights off man," I scolded wincing. "You're blinding me here."

"Imogen?" a familiar voice hit my ears.

I slowly rose to my feet. I wrapped my arms around myself and cautiously took a step forward.

"Yeah? Who wants to know?" I demanded.

The headlights blinked off. I saw someone step forward and when one of the street lights fell over him, I raised a hand to my mouth in shock. It was Oliver.

"Oliver Oh my God," I said rushing toward him, but stopping just short of his personal space. There was a lump in my throat as tears formed in my eyes. "I thought I'd never see you again!"

He looked emotional too and the next thing I knew, he stepped forward and threw his arms around me, drawing me into a hug. I was stunned for a moment but then slowly wound my arms around him. His embrace tightened.

"My God I thought you were dead," He whispered in my ear.

I had always felt safe in his arms no matter what. I almost didn't want the moment to end.

"Well," I said lightly. "I smell like death I'm sure."

He gently pulled back from the embrace.

"Miss McInerney, Rita, Norman, this is Imogen," Oliver introduced. His blue eyes were misty but he quickly blinked.

"Hi!" Rita said eagerly stepping forward and hugging me too. "We've heard so much about you!"

"Hi," a blond haired woman said warmly extending her hand out to me. "I'm Shane. I work with Oliver in the post office."

"Yep!" Rita said excitedly. "We work in the DLO. Dead Letters office. That's how we found yours!"

"Mine?" I asked confused.

"The one you mailed the day before you vanished," Oliver said watching me intently.

"Ohh that one," I said feeling the heat creeping into my cheeks as I deliberately avoided looking at him.

"Let's get in the car guys, it's freezing!" Shane said rubbing her hands together. "Imogen I'm sure you'd like a nice hot meal and a shower am I right?"

"Oh yes," I said grinning.

We climbed into the Jaguar and headed off.

Back at the post office, Rita and Shane had snuck me into the employee showers and they'd managed to find a box of clothes left in the lost and found. I scrubbed clean with the hot water, relishing in it. I washed my hair, towel dried it and quickly pulled on the clothes they'd found; a pair of tan pants and a burgundy blouse. I pulled my hat down over my head and quickly braided my hair so that a few shorter strands hung down against my cheek. I glanced into the mirror. I almost didn't recognize myself. But my goodness that shower felt good. When I was done, I met them in the DLO office which was in the basement.

There were shelves of all kinds of knick nacks and a conveyer belt that would send down bins of mail. I took a seat beside Oliver's desk. The others were lounging around. Oliver rested his hip against his desk and folded his arms over his chest.

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he regarded me.

"So, what happened all those years ago?"

I sighed and stared at my hands on my lap.

"Dad pushed me down the stairs," I admitted at last. I heard horrified gasps go around. "He was drinking. I don't even remember what started the fight. All I remember was waking up in the hospital with mom beside my bed. We decided to leave after that and mom turned him in. he was sent to jail for life."

"Good," Norman said vehemently nodding.

"I wanted to tell you Oliver so badly what was going on," I said raising my eyes to his. "But we knew that if we did, my dad would find you and hurt you too for trying to intervene. I missed you so much and I felt horrible for ignoring you all during senior year. I was just so depressed and miserable."

Oliver's gaze remained on mine. He had this intense look he always did that made you almost shake in your shoes. It was intense, but warm at the same time. Oliver scooted closer to me, so that his hip was resting on the opposite end of the desk near my chair. He unfolded his arms and grabbed the arms of my chair, leaning in. My heart raced a mile a minute in my chest.

"I would not have cared, Imogen," he said in that firm, stern voice that you knew he was angry. "Your father was nothing more than a coward hitting a young woman. He's nothing more than a monster and I would not have cared if he had hurt me. I would do anything to protect you. I spent all this time thinking you were dead. Do you realize what that did to me?"

I felt tears forming in my eyes at this point.

"I know," I said in a cracked voice. "I missed you and our time we spent together."

Oliver's blue eyes remained locked on mine for a moment before he straightened up and exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

"Mom had to go into a nursing home due to dementia and then I ended up on the streets," I continued clearly my throat. "Then the shelter flooded, and I really lost everything."

"You poor thing," Shane said with a sympathetic expression as she reached over and gently placed a hand on my arm, giving it an affectionate squeeze. Rita looked upset as well as Norman.

"So basically you have no place to stay, am I right in assuming?" Oliver said clasping his hands behind his back as he began pacing a bit.

"Uh pretty much," I said tilting my head to the side. "You did find me in an alleyway, Oliver." I said in a deadpan expression.

The corner of Oliver's mouth turned up briefly before he turned to Shane.

"Miss McInerney, would you be so kind as to put up Imogen?" he asked her as he stopped pacing.

Shane seemed stunned but then she quickly recovered.

"Of course," she said kindly. "There's plenty of room."

"Wonderful," Oliver said rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Well being we solved the letter today," He said wringing his hands. "I think we can all call it a night now."

It was late, around 12 AM.

"Wait how did you guys find me exactly?" I interjected as I got to my feet.

Rita and Norman were already heading out. Oliver turned to me.

"I still had this," he said reaching into his wallet and pulling out a picture. I stood next to him and peered over his elbow. "The picture we took on Valentines day remember? And this."

He reached into his other pocket and pulled out the locket. I gasped as he gently handed it over to me.

"We can get that cleaned like new," Shane said softly.

I gripped the locket tightly. Oliver and I had taken a photo in front of a tree on Valentines day by my house.

"I just showed this around and a woman recognized you," he said. "So she directed us to where you were."

I smiled and gently placed a hand on his chest before following Shane out the double swinging doors. I could feel Oliver's eyes on my back the entire time.

Shane put me up in one of the guest bedrooms she had. She had also managed to find some extra clothes for me and the minute I face planted on the bed, I was out cold. I was warm now and what's more I'd found my best friend. I just hoped he hadn't read that letter aloud…but something told me he had.


	2. Catching Up

ON OUR OWN

CHAPTER ONE-CATCHING UP

After a good night's sleep, I awoke feeling refreshed and invigorated. Shane had found me some extra clothes…a pair of jeans and a white blouse. I still had my cap on my head. My hair hung around my shoulders in soft waves. She'd even given me an eye liner which I had applied. I looked at myself in the mirror of her bathroom.

I didn't consider myself beautiful, but I wasn't bad…but again, no one would want to date me…not even Oliver…my best friend. I just sincerely hoped that he hadn't read that letter aloud. It was extremely embarrassing.

Shaking these thoughts from my head, I headed downstairs. Shane grabbed her coat and purse and looked up at me. She grinned.

"You look nice," she complimented me gently giving me a shoulder bump. "I think Oliver will appreciate it."

I stared at her, completely horrified and stunned.

"Please tell me that Oliver…" my voice trailed off as Shane nodded but she had a huge grin on her face.

"Yes he read your letter aloud," she said grabbing my wrist and giving it a gentle squeeze. "It was really sweet." She said softly.

"Did—did he say anything?" I asked feeling mortified.

"No, but you know Oliver," she said softly as we began leaving her house. "He's not the most communicative when it comes to that sort of thing. But don't worry."

Somehow I trusted Shane and we headed to the office.

I sat down on one of the chairs as the POstables began their next day of solving mysteries when it came to the letters. I crossed my legs and gently folded my hands in my lap. I watched them, marveling at how awesome they were. Norman had developed several solutions to help the ink appear more legible so they could read it without damaging crucial bits. Rita's photographic memory was incredible. She remembered several vital things that could help…Shane's computer skills and of course Oliver's knack for quoting Shakespeare, sometimes often came in handy depending on the type of letter they found. They really were simply incredible at their job.

While they waited for Shane's computer to check on a potential location, Oliver came over to me.

"Would you care to join me for dinner tonight? We have a lot to catch up on," he asked clasping his hands behind his back.

"Sure," I said.

I caught Norman, Rita's and Shane's eyes on me but they all had smiles on their faces and knowing looks. I threw them each scandalized looks when Oliver wasn't looking but Shane and Rita just continued to grin as they stared down at whatever they were working on. Suddenly, my vision shifted. The office began getting distorted and warped. I began feeling light headed and my whole body felt as though it was sitting in a sauna.

"Imogen? Are you alright?" I heard Rita's anxious voice.

All eyes turned onto me. I saw concern on everyone's faces. I held up a finger and swallowed.

"I-I believe I am not…" my voice trailed off as blackness encroached my line of vision and I felt myself sliding forward into the darkness.

"She's coming to," a worried female voice said from somewhere in the darkness. I blinked and slowly opened my eyes.

I was lying on a couch with a cold rag draped across my forehead. When my vision cleared, I saw Oliver sitting at my feet with one arm draped across the back of the couch. He was watching me intently. Rita, Shane and Norman were standing nearby.

"Are you alright, Imogen?" Norman asked.

"Yeah," I said as I slowly sat up, but the room spun a bit and I raised a hand to my forehead. "I think my blood sugar is low though."

"Are you diabetic?" Rita asked.

I gave a single nod.

"Plus, I haven't been eating well," I added quietly.

"Rita," Oliver said suddenly. "Head to the Mailbox grille and grab Imogen some food."

"Right," Norman said and hurried off. Rita followed him.

Shane came over and was chewing on her bottom lip as she studied me.

"Sweetie, have you fainted before?"

"Yeah," I said tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear. "But they took me to the hospital. I got some free food there but I couldn't stay there all the time. They sent me back out on the street once everything was okay."

Shane looked away and I could see something was bothering her.

I saw Oliver's hand slowly inching toward mine. I looked down and smiled as I gently took his hand.

"Well you do not have to worry about that anymore," he said studying me. "You now have a home with us. You can stay with me if you'd like. I don't want to keep putting Miss McInerney on the spot."

"Oliver I couldn't…" my voice trailed off but he shook his head cutting me off.

"No," he said firmly. "You are my best friend. End of story."

I felt as though I'd been sucker punched in the gut when he said those words. He'd read what I'd written but clearly doesn't feel the same way.

"Yeah," I said offering him a wan smile.

He gently grabbed my chin between his index finger and thumb before he stood up and headed over to his desk. I continued to stare at my hands on my lap. I saw Shane glance at me then at Oliver's direction over the tops of my eyes.

"Miss McInerney, can I speak to you for a moment?" Oliver called.

"Sure," Shane said as she gave my elbow an affectionate squeeze as she passed.

Oliver kept his back to Imogen as he felt Shane standing beside him.

"Miss McInerney, can I speak to you about something personal?" he asked keeping his voice low so that Imogen didn't overhear him.

"Of course," Shane said folding her arms. "What's up?"

Oliver glanced over his shoulder at Imogen quickly before he cleared his throat and continued.

"After seeing Imogen after all these years," he said nervously rearranging his letter openers on his desk. "I have to confess some of my old…feelings have begun resurfacing."

Shane's face lit up and she broke into a huge grin.

"I knew it!" she whispered excitedly. "You care about her a lot don't you? You like her." She added in a teasing tone.

Oliver adjusted his tie and shoulders and became flustered.

"Miss McInerney please keep your voice down," he scolded glancing up again at Imogen to as though he was afraid she'd heard Shane's statement. "I believe a relationship should be based on friendship and Imogen and I have been best friends for a long time. I know this might seem sudden but I have forgotten how much I've missed her."

"Oliver," Shane said in a gentle tone. "It's only natural. You thought she was dead. Now seeing her it's only natural to have those feelings resurface. You asked her to dinner to catch up right?"

Oliver nodded once.

"Okay, so take her some place special then," Shane said. "Take her to Ramone's Bistro."

Oliver nodded again.

"Very good idea, Miss McInerney," he said straightening his shoulders and standing up more. "Now let's see if we can decipher this clue."

I knew they were talking about something but I couldn't hear what. At that moment, Norman came back with a bag filled with food. He handed it to me shyly and smiled as I took it. I opened the Styrofoam container. It was filled with my favorite food.

"How'd you know this was my favorite?" I grinned at Norman hungrily digging in.

Poor Norman became flustered as he glanced from me to Oliver uncertainly.

"I must confess I talked a bit about you while we were searching for you," Oliver confessed turning around to face me. "It did take most of the night so I just so happened to mention your favorite food."

"Good thinking," I said smiling at him as I continued to hungrily eat.

Once I was done, I had begun feeling better…and they managed to find out the clue. It pointed to a small town just west of Denver. So I figured they were going on a road trip, which I had to admit, sounded fun.

Sure enough, we were on the road. We were in Oliver's baby blue Jaguar sedan. Oliver was driving, Shane was in the front seat, and Norman, Rita and I were in the back. Surprisingly it held us comfortably. I was sitting by the window with Norman between me and Rita.

On occasion I caught Oliver glancing in the rearview mirror.

We arrived at the town. It was a quaint little town with stores along the mainstreet and diagonal parking spaces. Oliver pulled into one of the spaces and put the car in park.

"Okay," he said turning around in his seat. "Imogen, and I will check out the stores in this direction. Shane, you and Rita and Norman take the opposite sides and we'll meet back here in one hour."

We nodded and climbed out of the car.

Oliver and I walked side by side as we began hitting the stores along the main street to see if anyone recognized the name that we found in the letter. I snuggled deeper into my parka that Shane had lent me and stuffed my hands into the pockets. There was definitely a twinge of snow in the air. The sky was slightly pinkish over the horizon and mountains. A cold gust of wind blew my hair back. My nose and ears stung a bit but it wasn't the type of cold that would cause frost bite.

"So," Oliver said quietly.

"So," I said at the same time and then smiled as I stared down at my feet. "You already know a lot about me. What about you? What have you been up to?"

I heard Oliver let out a cough.

"Nothing much," he said. "I've been working for the post office now for several years. We've won the Dark Knight Award." His tone was proud at the last words.

"I saw," I said cheerfully looking up at him. "That's wonderful Oliver! You did a good job!"

Oliver gave me a pleased smile as he looked down at his feet.

"I'm sorry there's not much more about me that you don't already know," I said sadly. "That pretty much summed up my life in a handbasket."

"It's perfectly fine, Imogen," he said patiently. "I'm just glad you're alright."

I felt a warmth spreading in my chest as we entered the first store and began tracking down the name.

A few stores later, we hit the jackpot. On the way back to the car, I noticed a man staring at me. As we passed him, he suddenly grabbed me and banged me up against one of the cars.

"Hey pretty lady give me your money," he demanded in a gruff smoker's tone.

"Hey," Oliver said in an angry, threatening tone. "Let her go."

He stepped between me and the guy, blocking his path. The guy snorted and kneed Oliver in the stomach causing him to double over.

"Hey!" we heard Shane's voice shout as I looked up and spied her, Rita and Norman running toward us. The guy took off running down the street. I put a hand on Oliver's back.

"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly as the others finally reached us.

"What happened?" Norman asked.

"This guy just grabbed me and demanded money," I explained. "Oliver stepped in."

Oliver was still bent over for a few moments before he righted himself up.

"I'm fine," he said exhaling slowly. "We did have luck with the name."

He handed a piece of paper to Rita and Shane that he wrote down the name on.

"Awesome," Rita said eagerly. "Let's go!"

The three of them began heading to the car. Without so much as a word, I leaned up on my tippy toes and threw my arms around Oliver's neck, drawing him into a tight hug.

"Thank you," I whispered in his ear.

I felt his arms slowly wrap around me and he leaned into the hug.

"You're welcome," he said quietly back.

We gave the letter to its original recipient and began heading home.

That evening, Oliver had picked me up for our dinner 'date'. Shane had found a nice dress and did my hair and makeup. I had to admit, I looked nice. Oliver picked me up promptly at seven and we headed to Ramone's Bistro.

It was a nice place really. Quiet and there were candles lit on every table. Ramone greeted us cheerfully and sat us down at one of the tables, handing us menu's. I skimmed over the menu and found what I wanted. I ordered an iced tea and Oliver ordered coffee. I looked up at him and smiled.

"This place is pretty cool," I admitted looking around in admiration at the restaurant.

"Oh, yes," Oliver said clearing his throat. "We come here often or the Mailbox Grille."

I toyed with the napkin on the table.

"Um," I began cautiously. "Did you ever get married? Have a family?"

I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer, but I forced myself to.

I spied a muscle twitch in his jaw as he briefly looked down at his left hand, where a gold wedding band was. My heart sank immediately. The waitress brought our drinks and then we ordered our food. When she stepped away, Oliver finally responded.

"Yes," he said slowly. "But, my wife headed off to Paris. I haven't heard from her."

"I'm sorry," I said.

Oliver's blue eyes raised to mine and he held my gaze. He didn't respond to my apology.

He continued to hold my gaze and I began feeling a bit self conscious. I looked over my dress, thinking there was something wrong with it or something had gotten on it.

"What?" I asked nervously.

"Nothing," He said eventually breaking eye contact with me. "Let's enjoy our dinner shall we?"

The waitress brought our food next and we happily dug in in companionable silence though I did ask him on occasion about how many books he'd read, what his favorite were etcetera. We had a pleasant conversation. It was easy to talk to him. I'd almost forgotten how the two of us clicked and got along. I had severely missed it. We took a nice walk back to the car and he dropped me off at Shane's. He walked me up to the front steps as we stood on the porch. We faced each other.

"I had a great time, Oliver," I said to him. "I had missed the times we'd spend together in high school hanging out."

"Yes," he admitted clasping his hands behind his back. "I remember. They were most pleasant."

Pleasant? I thought they were amazing. He looked like he wanted to say or do something else but hesitated. I reached up and gave a playful tug on his tie. He'd worn a silver suit and tie to dinner tonight.

"Get some sleep," I said as I turned to open the front door.

I felt him lightly grab my elbow forcing me to turn around and face him again. He slowly reached a hand up and I felt him gently sweep some of my hair behind my ear that had fallen from its clip.

"You too," he said quietly and then quickly lowered his hand and began heading down the steps to his car parked. I opened the door and stepped in, feeling my face flush with heat and my heart pounding loudly in my chest.

Shane stepped out of the living room holding a small glass of red wine. The minute she saw my face she broke into a grin.

"So how'd it go?" she asked.

Grinning I shook my head but headed into the living room with her and told her everything that had happened.

The next day, was everyone's day off. Oliver had decided to take a hike along one of the well known paths in the national park. He had decided to stay over night to clear his head. Being around Imogen was influencing him, the same as it had in high school. He just had to figure out what to do at this point. He cared so much for her, but, was afraid to say anything being he felt he was still married technically.

Hopefully this hike would clear his mind. He carefully climbed over large roots and pieces of thick lumber. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a plaid shirt and a bright orange down vest with hiking boots. He knew where he was going but it must've snowed or rained because some of the spots along the path were slippery or muddy. Just as he stepped over one particular spot, his foot went out from under him and he felt himself falling down a small ravine. He landed on his stomach in a small patch of mud as he saw darkness encroaching his vision, pulling him into an empty abyss.


	3. dreams to dream

ON OUR OWN

CHAPTER TWO-DREAMS TO DREAM

A day later, everyone was worried. Oliver hadn't returned from his hike. I had realized he hadn't come home. He had given me a spare key to get in and out of his house but now concern and fear was gripping my chest. I headed to the post office.

"Has anyone heard from Oliver?" I asked worriedly leaning against his desk.

Shane, Rita and Norman looked up at me as concern now filled their faces.

"No," Shane said shaking her head. "He went hiking right? He should've been home by now."

"Alright. I'm calling the cops," I said as I grabbed the phone and began dialing.

The cops came shortly. A search party spread out. The lucky thing was that Oliver had left a map of where he was intending to go. We all stood around the police vehicles, as well as the park rangers. I leaned against one of the Jeeps and nervously chewed on my thumbnail. One arm was wrapped around my stomach as I watched the rescuers bring in search dogs as well to pick up Oliver's scent. Norman, Rita and Shane were standing around me.

"They'll find him," Norman said sincerely nodding in affirmation.

Shane and Rita were just as anxious and nervous. Sure enough, about a half hour later, we heard shouts and we saw them carrying someone on a stretcher. Fear gripped my chest as we hurried over to the two paramedics carrying him between them.

"What on earth happened?" Rita cried wide-eyed.

"He must've fallen and hit his head," One of them said. "His vitals are okay but we're taking him to the hospital to make sure there isn't any damage."

"Okay. I'm coming," I said automatically.

"We'll meet you there," Shane said as she, Rita and Norman headed off to her car. I climbed up into the ambulance as they closed the doors and we headed off with the sirens wailing.

I nervously paced the waiting room waiting to see what the doctor would say.

"He'll be okay," Rita said reassuringly, but there was a bit of doubt and uncertainty underneath her tone. I appreciated her attempt at trying to elevate my nerves, so I flashed her a quick smile.

Shane was staring down at her phone. A few minutes later, a doctor in blue scrubs approached. I stopped pacing and watched him.

"Are you all here for an Oliver O'Toole?" he asked glancing from me to Rita, to Norman and then onto Shane.

We nodded in unison.

"Yes, he's our colleague," Shane said. "How is he?"

"He's fine," the doctor said offering a faint smile, but it began slowly ebbing away. "However, there is a bit of an issue."

"What kind of issue?" I asked alarmed.

"I think it's best if you all come with me," He said beckoning us to follow him.

Anxiously we followed him.

Oliver was sitting up in one of the hospital beds. He was wearing one of the hospital gowns and had a blue blanket and white sheet pulled up to his waist. A heart monitor was clipped to his index finger and the screen beeped and displayed his EKG steadily. His blue eyes looked up at us.

"Hi," he said flashing me a warm smile before his gaze shifted to Rita, Norman and Shane flanking me. "What are your names?"

My heart nearly dropped to the floor.

"He—he doesn't remember?" Shane asked stunned.

"No," the doctor said shaking his head slowly. "He hit his head pretty hard. Now, this type of amnesia is pretty temporary. It's not permanent but try and get him around familiar things it should trigger something."

"Okay thank you doc," Shane said.

Rita had a hand raised to her mouth in shock. I slowly sank into a chair next to his best. I'd just found him, and now I'd lost him again…so to speak.

He looked from me to Rita, to Shane.

"Why the long faces?" he asked tilting his head to the side slightly.

"We're okay," Shane said clearing her throat forcing her voice to remain steady. "We're glad you're alright though, Oliver. Rita? Norman? Why don't the three of us head down to the cafeteria and grab something to eat?"

"Sure. Imogen you want something?" Rita asked getting to her feet.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "A grilled cheese and tomato please."

I heard them leaving the room. Oliver's eyes shifted back to me. He crooked a finger and beckoned me closer. I leaned in and turned my ear toward him so I could hear him better.

"I have a question," he began. "Are—are we a 'thing'?" he whispered.

My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"Um," I began slowly. "We're best friends."

Oliver was silent for a moment before settling back against the pillow behind him. He looked at me steadily.

"That might have to change," He said in a low voice watching me. "I mean if we are best friends like you say. Romance starts with friendship and can blossom."

I chewed on my bottom lip and stared up at the ceiling. I felt hot tears starting to form in my eyes. Oliver's eyes were still on mine.

"Hearts are wild creatures. That's why our ribs are cages," he quoted. I knew it was from Shakespeare.

I felt a single tear streak down my cheek and I mustered a smile and quickly ran the top of my index finger underneath my eye. He looked concerned, probably at the prospect that I was crying. But at that point, Rita, Norman and Shane returned with the food from the cafeteria. Shane took one look at me.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

I sniffed and inhaled deeply. I didn't want to tell her what had just happened just yet, so I nodded and forced a smile on my face, eagerly taking the sandwich she had handed me.

"Yeah I'm fine," I said as I hungrily began digging in.

A few days later, Oliver was released. His father had come to help him. His father was a pretty cool guy and remembered me from high school. We had filled him in on what happened. His expression was distraught when we explained what I had gone through and why I'd lost touch with Oliver.

The following morning, we stood in the DLO and waited for Oliver to arrive. The hospital had said to basically treat him as though nothing was wrong. Hopefully, something would trigger his memories.

He stepped into the office wearing a pair of battleship gray slacks, a light multicolored shirt with his suspenders over it and a dark gray tie. His blond hair was neatly combed off to the side. I was standing with my hip leaning against his desk.

"Morning Oliver," Rita said cheerfully.

"Morning," he said frowning slightly. "I'm sorry your name is…?"

"Rita," she responded inwardly cringing. "That's Norman, Shane and Imogen."

"Ah, yes," he said his eyes lingering on me for a bit. "Miss Imogen. What's on today's agenda?" he asked rubbing his hands together. "What do we do here?"

Shane began explaining everything to him and handed him one of the letters from the bin. He began examining it carefully. Rita came over to me and stood next to me.

"What happened when we were gone?" she asked quietly.

They weren't stupid. They knew something had happened when they had re-entered the room.

I told her.

"But now its like…" I said sighing raising a hand to my forehead. "He likes me, but he doesn't even know who I am exactly. It's bothering me immensely."

Rita put a hand on my arm and gave it an affectionate and understanding squeeze.

"It'll work out," she said firmly nodding. "I know it."

I gave her a smile. While Norman and Shane talked with Oliver over the letter, I caught him stealing glances over at me on occasion. Norman began working on the letter, applying a few solutions to it to try and expose more information. Shane got on her computer. Rita had remembered a location with a name that was found in the letter. Oliver came over to me and stood next to me, his hands clasped behind him.

"So how long have we been best friends?" he asked.

My shoulder was lightly touching the material of his shirt.

"Since high school," I said swallowing.

"Incredible," he mused. "And we've stayed in contact for that length?"

Okay this was getting dang near impossible. My heart felt as though it was being twisted into several directions and pulled at the same time.

"No," I responded forcing my voice not to waver. "We lost contact in our senior year."

"Oh dear," he said frowning staring down at his shoes. "May I imply as to why?"

That was it. That was the straw that broke the camels back. I could feel the hot tears starting to form and I raised a hand to my forehead.

"Guys—I can't do this," I said my voice finally breaking.

The others looked up with sympathetic expressions as I just bolted from the office, leaving a very confused and concerned Oliver behind. I ran into the women's bathroom and closed the door. Thankfully there was no one else in there. I slumped against the wall and slid down, letting my legs stretch out as I broke down. I eventually drew my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I cried. Like full blown bawling.

He doesn't remember me. He doesn't remember what happened. I would have to relive telling him all over again and that bothered me. It was unfair to all of us who loved and cared about him.

A few moments later, Shane came in. She hugged me tightly and said that the letter proved to be too badly damaged to get any information from. While they had a few valuable and viable clues to possible locations, there just wasn't enough to go on, which was apparently a first for them. Normally they'd be able to deliver any letter.

She reassured me that Oliver will come back to us. I had sincerely hoped so.

Being Oliver's memory wasn't at its top peak just yet, I had decided to stay with Shane. While Oliver retained some of his memories which included Shakespeare quotes and certain things, the others were a complete fog to him. I was sitting on Shane's couch, reading a book. Shane was on the computer, looking up possible trigger objects that might help Oliver regain his memories. Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

Shane and I looked at each other puzzled before she got up and headed to the front door. I heard the door opening.

"Oliver? What brings you here?" She asked softly. "Please come in."

I heard footsteps on the hardwood floor. I looked up from my book and there stood Oliver.

"I seemed to have forgotten where I live," he said frowning. "Police found me wandering and I told them your name. So they just dropped me off."

Sure enough I could see the faint red and blue flashing lights slowly disappearing down the block. Shane ushered Oliver into the living room and he sat down next to me on the couch.

"Okay," Shane said. "I'll call your father and let him know you're here and safe."

She grabbed her cell phone and began dialing.

I closed my book and placed it on the end table. I reached up and tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear.

"Are you alright, Miss Imogen?" he asked inclining his head slightly towards me.

Since when did he start calling me Miss? It must be the amnesia bit.

"Yeah," I said offering him a wan smile as I briefly glanced over at him. "It's just not…easy exactly."

"I wish I knew exactly what was going on or what happened," He said in an apologetic tone. "To make it easier on you…and everyone else."

"It's not your fault," I said shaking my head. "You just had a very bad accident that's all."

Oliver nodded.

"I still do not like seeing you upset," he said his voice lowering. "I am sorry if I am hurting you."

"Oh no," I said shifting to face him. "I know that Oliver. None of this is your fault…okay?"

He nodded again.

It was getting late. Shane offered for Oliver to sleep on the couch. But my eye lids were getting so heavy at this point that I felt them dropping and before long, I felt myself slumping against Oliver; my cheek resting on his biceps as I ended up dozing off and falling into a troubled, but deep sleep.

I felt warm sunshine on my face and yawned, slowly stretching my arms above my head and stretched, enjoying the sensation of my body. I realized I was still leaning against Oliver, who had his cheek pressing against the top of my head and he was fast asleep. I almost popped him in the mouth with my hand. I sheepishly yanked my arm back down and spied Shane sitting at the dining room table sipping a hot cup of coffee and reading the news paper. She looked over and gave me a smile.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?" she asked softly grinning.

"Sort of," I admitted carefully getting up so I didn't disturb Oliver. "I'm gonna freshen up."

"Sure. There's some eggs and bacon in the pan for you," she said motioning to the kitchen stove. I grabbed a fresh pair of clothes, a pair of jeans, a white poplin blouse and a long paisley print duster cardigan sweater. I climbed out of the shower and quickly got dressed. I twisted my hair up into a bun and fastened it with a clip. A few shorter strands quickly escaped and hung down against my cheeks. I pulled on my sneakers and headed back down to the kitchen. I hungrily dug into the breakfast Shane cooked. By that time, I noted Oliver was awake.

"Morning Oliver," Shane said cheerfully raising her coffee mug to him.

"Morning, Shane is it?" Oliver said.

"Yes, yes it is," she said taking another sip from her mug.

It was just weird knowing he usually called her Miss McInerney from what I gathered.

"Here," I offered handing him a second plate filled with eggs and bacon. He flashed me a grateful smile before he sat down and I took a seat opposite him. We both dug into our breakfast greedily.

"So," I said turning to Shane. "Back to the DLO today?"

"Yep," she said stretching lazily. "Hopefully this time we'll get a letter that we can actually solve. Its really frustrating if we can't figure it out. It's rare that we can't."

"From what I've seen, you guys are simply amazing," I said softly taking a bite of crispy bacon and chewed on it thoughtfully. "But sometimes there are things that are out of your control."

Shane looked at me and nodded.

"You're absolutely right, Imogen," she said softly smiling. "When you two are done, we'll head out."

We entered the DLO and already Norman and Rita were there. Rita waved energetically at Oliver and I as we entered.

"Morning guys!" she said eagerly. "Ready for work?"

"Absolutely," Shane said nodding.

Suddenly, Oliver frowned and paused in the center of the office as a batch of new letters in a bin came sliding down the conveyer belt.

"Oliver, are you alright?" Shane asked with concern as we stood around and watched him.

"I have a bunch of YooHoo's in the fridge…right?"

"Yes," Rita said excitedly glancing at Shane. "You drink them all the time."

"Riiight," Oliver said slowly as he began walking in a semi-circle from Rita, to Norman, to Shane and then eventually stopping in front of me. "And we're best friends since high school that we lost touch…right?"

"Right," I said glancing sideways at Shane, wondering if Oliver's memory was starting to come back. If so that was good.

"Miss McInerney," he said turning his eyes onto Shane now. "Could you do me a favor and look up the current status on Justin Price."

"He's back!" Rita said happily as she hummed.

"Sure thing boss," Shane said grinning as she headed over to her laptop and sat down and began typing in the information. Norman looked pleased too.

"It would be in this area, Denver," Oliver continued. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and when he realized that, he turned to Norman.

"Norman, I have a spare set of clothes in the locker room. Could you please go and get it?"

Norman nodded and hurried out. I folded my arms over my chest and watched him. Oliver's blue eyes shifted to me.

"Imogen," he said softly. "I'm so sorry about everything. I just had no idea who you were…or anyone was for that matter. I mean I knew we are best friends, I just couldn't remember details. I'm sure that was incredibly difficult for you to endure."

"It's okay," I said softly. "I knew it wasn't your fault. You had an accident."

"Yes," he said gingerly rubbing his temple. "I shall like to think this bump will be a reminder of that."

I managed a smile.

But then my smile faded.

"Why are you interested in my father?" I asked him now serious.

"Because I have a feeling that he isn't who he says he is,"

Seconds later, beeping from Shane's computer drew us over. We easily leaned over her shoulder at the results.

"A Justin Price died 4 years ago. But it says here that he was a farmer and made his living selling dairy," Shane said pointing to the screen. "But Imogen, you said he'd gotten life in prison for what he'd done to you?"

She raised her eyes to mine. I nodded, completely stunned and shocked.

"See if you can cross reference any last name of Price with prison and child abuse years ago," Oliver offered.

Shane typed in what he'd said.

"Oh here," Shane said. "A Seth Reynolds was incarcerated for child abuse pushing an 18 year old step daughter down the stairs. That sounds an awful like you Imogen." Shane said as I watched her skim over the article quickly. "Yep. It says here Seth Reynolds was arrested and put in jail for life after he shoved his 18 year old step daughter, Imogen Price, down the stairs rendering her in a coma for 3 days."

I raised a hand to my mouth in horror and felt as though my whole body was made of lead. So he wasn't my real father? He wasn't my biological father? What was going on here? Why didn't mom tell me?

"Wait how did you determine this?" Shake asked sounding confused.

Oliver touched his temple.

"I just remembered something else the day I went to Imogen's house to see if she was alright," he said as he slowly began pacing from left to right. "When I asked her 'father' if she was alright, before he told me that she fell down the stairs and died supposedly, he said something strange."

"What was it?" Norman asked curiously.

Now I was curious too.

"He said," Oliver's eyes landed on mine. "Quote on quote "She ain't mine nor is she home"."

Startled gasps went around at this point.

"You just remembered that now?" Rita asked him sounding shocked.

"Yes," he said nodding turning his gaze onto hers. "That bump I got must've loosened another memory of that day. So I began wondering what exactly that meant. So, the only obvious conclusion is that Imogen wasn't his biological daughter. There really is no other explanation for what that statement would mean."

We were silent at this point.

"So," I began slowly. "Basically my real father passed away?"

"But he was a farmer," Shane said sounding excited. "You might have some real family you have no idea about. They maintain a local dairy farm not far from here."

"Road trip!" Norman said happily thrusting his arms into the air.

I couldn't help but snort.

The farm was about four hours from Denver. It was sprawled over several acres of land. A dirt road led up to the main farm house. There was a bright red and white barn a short walk from that with a corral spanning a good distance where a beautiful dapple gray horse was prancing and frolicking happily. Then there was a grain silo behind that with another barn where a few cows were grazing. There was a mailbox in the front that read PRICE in white block letters. Oliver carefully pulled up the driveway…the rear tires kicking up small dust clouds. We stopped and pushed open our doors.

A young woman in her late 50's answered the door. She was dressed in a flower print house dress and a white apron. She was wiping her hands on a dish rag.

"Can I help you folks?" she asked sounding nice and welcoming.

"Yes," Oliver said clearing his throat. "We're from the USPS," he said as the POstables showed their ID's. "Is there someone we can talk to?"

"You can talk to me," she said. "What's this about exactly?"

"Well," Oliver said glancing over his shoulder at me. "We have a very strange tale to tell you and it has to do with this young lady here."

"Come on in," she said.

When we were finished explaining everything, the woman, whose name was Mabel, was completely stunned.

"I never knew Justin had an affair back then," she said shaking her head. "We were just barely dating at that time." She looked over and me and offered me a smile. "You certainly look like him though."

I managed a smile and shifted in my seat. I didn't think I could take anymore surprises, but here we are. Hopefully this would be the last one I have to encounter for a life time.


End file.
